


Obses

by Maypulp



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bad Ending, F/M, Kidnapping, Mild Gore, Minor Character Death, Serial Killers, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:34:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22054882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maypulp/pseuds/Maypulp
Summary: He just wanted her attention, and so he worked to have it.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11
Collections: Let's Create Secret Santa 2019





	Obses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Damn_Son](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Damn_Son/gifts).



When Brooke woke up, it was to the overbearing stench of iron. Wrinkling her nose, she shifted and sucked in a breath. Pain radiated all through her legs, and there was an intense soreness all throughout her body. That wasn’t strange though, considering who she brought home. Bringing home a man like Tyler, she was expecting to be sore all over. He wasn’t subtle about how rough and brutal he was, and she’d seen him in a fight. The guy hit like a truck and looked like he’d been birthed by one. 

All solid muscle and bruised knuckles, she was surprised to see his gentle side when he offered her a shoulder to cry on during a party she just couldn’t enjoy. They were complete strangers, and she honestly expected him to try and get in her pants, but he’d been so…kind. 

_“So what if those people don’t want you working for them. Fuck ‘em.” He waved his hand, and used to other to rub her on the shoulder. Not roughly, like she’d been expecting, but gently. Comfortingly._

_Brooke sucked in a breath and leaned into him.“I’m just tired of asking my parents for money all the damn time. I feel like a stupid stereotype.” Tyler huffed and pulled her even closer._

_“Well listen, ain’t nothing wrong with that. Not like you’re a leech or anything. Hell, you can’t top me having to have my parents bail me out of jail cause this one prick got pissy at me kicking his ass.” He then regaled her with a story of him finding a group of guys that had been planning on drugging the punch at his party, and how he and his buddies kicked their asses._

Ever since then, they had a somewhat tender relationship rife with sexual tension. Sneaking peaks at each, making suggestive comments and lingering touches. She couldn’t see herself having a long-term relationship with Tyler, but for now, she’d like what they could be. Biting her bottom lip, Brooke stretched. Letting out a deep groan, she turned to face Tyler and- 

Froze. 

And then screamed.

Laying next to her was Tyler, his body so gruesome and brutalized he was nearly unrecognizable. His eyes had been carved out and his jaw was a slack, bloody mess. His teeth were strewn across his neck, and the rest of his body had multiple stab wounds, like someone had tried to gouge out chunks of his skin and then pulled at the muscle. His chest looked almost flayed open.

Scrambling into a sitting position, she immediately checked her body for any wounds. 

And once again, the sight in front of her made her freeze.

A pale man, just a bit older than her and dressed in all black sat in a chair across from the bed. His head was resting on a gloved hand, his expression dark. She struggled to determine his current intentions with her. He was obviously planning on killing her, but if he kept her alive, he clearly had plans for her. The man set something aside-a picture she couldn’t discern the actual contents of-and stood. He wasn’t as tall as Tyler, certainly not as muscular, and for a moment she wondered how on earth someone like him could have taken out Tyler, let alone when she was right there.

“You really,” He began, and his voice was raspy and low, almost guttural. “Know how to rile a guy up, huh?” He pulled out something from behind him, and Brooke tensed when she realized it was a knife. Standing up, the man slowly made his way to her. She shrieked (a sound she rarely ever made) and struggled to untangle herself from the blankets. Her heart was pounding so hard an fast she could practically hear it, and her imminent death made it hard for her to swallow, to breathe. 

The man lunged at her, closing in the small gap, and all rational thought fled from Brooke’s mind. The only thing she wanted to do was live. _Live, live, live_. She didn’t care if he managed to take out Tyler, she only wanted to get out of this man’s reach. Out of her room, and to the safety that was outside. 

The man batted her flailing arms to the side easily, and swiped his knife across her stomach. Brooke screamed, loud and piercing and _oh God, someone help, please HELP ME!_ He sat himself on her legs and made it near impossible to kick out, resting his full weight on her like that. And she was scared of the result of bucking her hips to get him off when the knife was so close to her. 

Sucking in a breath, she forced herself to still. If she made him think she was done fighting, then she could save her strength. Knock him off when he least expected it, and then run outside for help. Conversely, the man above her let out a breath. He moved the knife up. It moved in a trail. From her stomach to her chest, from there to her neck. It didn’t move after that.

Slowly, holding her breath, Brooke looked up. The man was watching her, blue eyes bright with dark intent and fervor. When he smiled, she had to force herself to _keep still_. If she freaked out now, her plan and only escape would be ruined. “I,” The man began and suddenly cut himself off, pulling back and breathing heavily. He took in a few shuddering breaths, and when he seemed to get himself under control, he gave her his full attention again. “Sorry princess, all that anticipation left me a bit shaken up.” He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.

Brooke swallowed. “Ant-ticipation?” Feed into his ego, make him waste time talking. There weren’t any locks on her door, and if the police hadn’t come when Tyler had been killed, she’d doubted they would show up from her screaming bloody murder. There would be no one coming for her.

The man leaned back again. “Yes.” He said simply, and turned his head to inspect Tyler’s corpse. She could see him thinking, calculating something. His eyes lowered, and he let out a small “hmph”, bringing the knife from her neck to Tyler’s. Without stopping his pace, he carved into Tyler’s neck. Slow and steady, he left a trail of blood in his wake.

Brooke inhaled sharply and then let it out. Breathing through her mouth to stop the smell of blood getting in through her nose, she struggled to think of what to do next. Did he use the knife on Tyler because he wanted to? Or was that his way of curbing his urge to kill her? Did he really want her to suffer?

_Keep him talking_. There had to be a motive, there had to be. “W-why?” She blurted out, and it was the type of cliche thing she would roll her eyes at whenever she saw it in movies. But she understood now, that primal fear, the real horror of not knowing if you were going to survive an outcome. Her life was in someone else’s hands, and she wanted to live. Live and see more stupid scary movies and laugh at them with her friends.

“Because I just wanted you to pay attention to me.”

_What?_

The man got off of her suddenly, pushing himself off the bed and making his way to her dresser. He picked up a picture, the very same one he’d been looking at when she woke up, along with several others and made his way back to her. Realization hit her like a bolt of lightening, and Brooke jumped up, not willing to give him another easy chance at straddling her. The was also the plus of not being near Tyler’s corpse, and Brooke took in shaky breaths as the man paused in front of her. 

Brooke wasn’t short, and earlier she thought the man to be around her height, but she could see that she was wrong. He was tall-over six feet easily-and lean. With the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, she could see his muscles and some type of tattoo. He wasn’t weak by any means, but he still had no business taking on someone like Tyler.

_He obviously snuck in, but how did he kill Tyler? How haven’t the police been called?_

The man flipped the picture over in his hands to face her, and Brooke flinched at the movement. Ignoring his smirk, she inspected the picture for something. It was high quality, and the image of a hangout spot near her college’s parking lot that she and her friends frequented made a lump form in her throat. Her friends were even in the picture. They were all leaning over Dania’s phone, faces pulled into sorrow or disgust. And she was by herself, leaning against a pillar, looking down at her textbook with a annoyed expression. The angle of the picture made it easy to guess where the man was when he took it. At least a hundred meters away, hiding in the bushes and shrubbery that wrapped around the science building. He’d been close, but still quite far. The man put another picture in front of that one, and Brooke blinked.

Another place she recognized. The grocery store not too far from her house. Once again, she was the star of the image. One foot on the bottom of the food cart to keep it in place while she looked between two types of cereal. This one taken from at the end of the aisle and at an angle. Another picture slid into focus, and Brooke wanted to to shut her brain off. She didn’t want to think about the implications of any of this. For now, she would do what he wanted, and look.

This picture wasn’t high quality like the rest. It was her psychology presentation about mental illnesses and anti-social behaviors. She remembered that moment so clearly, because she had to quickly leave and buy a flashdrive for the powerpoint. The room was dark, and she was dressed in her best business casual. Different from every other picture however, was that the man was in the photo. In fact, she was talking to him. The man was dressed completely different, in a plain dress shirt and slacks, and glasses to boot. He looked almost meek. 

No other picture came after that, and Brooke leaned away. The man lowered the pictures, shuffled through them, and then let them drop onto the bed. For several long moments, neither of them spoke.

“I don’t understand.” Her tearful response drew the man in, and he gave her a rueful smile.

“I told you: I just wanted you to pay attention to me. Just a small town serial killer that wanted to upgrade to a bigger city. I got the publicity-and victims-I wanted, but in my quest to document all the shocked and horrified civilians, I found a woman that didn’t give me the time of day.” He reached out and gently cupped her face with both of his hands. She couldn’t stop the sob that broke past her lips, and he shushed her.

“I actually planned on killing you, when I took that picture of you in the grocery store. But then I saw the company you keep.” He glanced disdainfully at what remained of Tyler. “I thought to myself, ‘Surely, if that waste of space brute can capture your attention, then I could as well?’” He rocked them gently, and Brooke moved out of his hands and buried her face into his chest, trying to play the part of the helpless victim. “I took on a challenge. Different from the cat and mouse games with my usual victims, I got to create an entirely different persona where _I_ was the weak and submissive. A wolf in sheep’s clothing.” 

“So th-that’s it? You wanted me to pay attention to you? But I already _did_ , during my presentation!”

The man scoffed, and pulled her away so he could look her in the eye. “It wasn’t _true_. The me in that shitty class and the real me are completely different. Honestly, it’s like an itch I couldn’t scratch. Being so close to you, having so many pictures of you but unable to truly show you what I was really like, it pissed me off. So I created a scenario where I could show you my true self.” He waved a hand at Tyler’s body. “And your fuckbuddy was so kind as to help me.”

“You’re a psychopath.” She couldn’t stop the words from coming out of her mouth, and she didn’t regret saying them. Never in her life had she heard such twisted logic, completely lacking in morals and fucked all the way up.

“And a whole bunch of other things, your point?”

_Now_. She didn’t know if she’d ever get another chance. There was no way he wouldn’t kill her now. He’d explain his plan, revealed his face and identity to her. With that type of information, she was sure she could put him behind bars. 

Sniffling, Brooke slowly brought her arms to rest on his biceps. And then she kneed him in the groin, using all of her weight to throw him onto the bed. She practically lunged for her door, having the sense to stop herself before slamming into it and turning the knob. She didn’t even dare waste time trying to look at the man, or see his progress. She had to _move_. 

Throwing the door open and then slamming it shut behind her, she ran to her living room. 

Only to be met with a sight that stupefied her. 

It wasn’t her living room, or her kitchen, or her apartment. It was small, yes, but the living room and dining room were on opposite sides of the hallway, with the kitchen merged into the dining room and the front door near the living room. Almost a complete swap of her apartment. But if this wasn’t her apartment, how the hell did she just leave something that looked exactly like her room?

_Forget this_. Shaking her head, Brooke ran to the front door, a wooden thing with an imposing amount of locks on it. 

“Wha-?” She turned ran her hands over the locks, trying to see where she should even begin. The locks were crossing over each other, locked into each other, meaning that if she didn’t have the key to unlock one, she couldn’t unlock the rest. Gritting her teeth, she turned to the window near the door and saw the same thing. Locks everywhere. There was no way out. Dammit.

Her adrenaline was making her dizzy, and she turned around to see if she could make sense of another escape route.

The sight of the man standing a few feet away from her made her jump back and scream. 

The man let out a disappointed sigh, and pulled out the knife. 

“Wait!” She blurted out, and tried to map out a quick escape route. She couldn’t get very far from the entry way, and he was capable of blocking her every path. A cold feeling came over her, and Brooke shook with the realization that this was it. She wasn’t escaping. 

“Maybe I should have explained myself better. When I meant _show you my true self_ , I had _all the time, forever_ tacked on the end of that.” He took long, quick strides towards her, and Brooke dropped to the ground. She couldn’t win in a fight against him, let alone escape the house. Who knew if he even had the key on his person, and not hidden somewhere. A heavy type of despair settled in her, and the man crouched down to meet her eyes.

“I’m not letting you go. Ever. And I made sure of it.” He glanced up at the door and smiled. “Once I get rid of that waste of space’s corpse, I can have you all to myself. Hehe,” He glanced away from her almost shyly, and Brooke wanted to scream at him. _You don’t get to do that, you absolute murderer!_ “Maybe we can even watch movies and stuff together. I like the idea of that.” He nodded his head, firm in his decision, and wiped away the tears on Brooke’s face. 

He ran the knife lightly over her legs, tracking the blood that spilled from her wounds, and the agonized groans she let out. Then he smiled and rested his forehead on hers, eyes boring into her own. “And you don’t have to worry about anything else but me. Just me.”


End file.
